


Opening Up, One Piece At A Time

by girlwithaplan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A little smattering or murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Love Confessions, Making Out, Nightmares, No baby yoda YET, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed, he’s trying, sweet but gruff Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24325339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithaplan/pseuds/girlwithaplan
Summary: The OFC (reader, you, etc) has been hired to help the Mandalorian after being rescued from a mining colony. She can’t sleep one night, and Din finds out more about her past.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 20
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, are this is just a fantasy, please don’t take it seriously. Mean comments are not constructive.

“Do you need something?”

  
His filtered voice made you jump. A silly reaction, considering you’d climbed up to the cockpit on purpose.

  
“Can I-“ you took a shuddering breath, trying to keep from crying again,  
“Can I sit up here with you?”

  
The helmet tilted to one side, considering you, before he nodded and gestured to the copilot seat to his right. Relieved, you sat down and immediately drew your knees under your chin, wrapping your arms around your own legs in a mock embrace. You tried to remember the last time someone had comforted you after a sleepless night, probably your mother or father when you were very young. Without turning your head, you chanced a look at the Mandalorian in the pilot seat. He was no longer looking at you, but fiddling with some controls in front of him. Not being completely alone on your bunk was some comfort, so you forced yourself to relax and watch the stars go by.  
  
After a few minutes of silence he said,

“Hang onto something, I’m gonna make the jump,”

He didn’t look at you but you used both hands to grip the edge of the control panel in front of you. Without another word from him, the ship lurched and you nearly lost your balance even with his warning to hold on. The ship shook for a few seconds before settling and the Mandalorian sighed, flipped the switch for autopilot, and sat back in his chair.  
  
You watched as his stance relaxed, he stretched his legs out long and tucked his hands behind his head. You imagined he had his eyes closed under the helmet while he stretched.  
Before he could open them, you turned your gaze back out the window and tried to clear your mind. The images of your nightmare plagued your thoughts, and though you’d been having consistent nightmares for awhile, this one you couldn’t shake.

Most of the time you dreamed of the day your parents were killed in front of you, or that you were still in the mine, watching workers collapse and burying their bodies. After those, you’d cry a little, look around and remind yourself that you weren’t there anymore and drift back to sleep.

  
Tonight, however, your brain had brought up the memory you liked least. You’d tried to shove it down in the weeks since it happened, but clearly that didn’t work. In the dream, you were called up to your boss’s quarters (boss was a kind work for what he was, your captor after your home planet has been seized and destroyed by brute force years ago). When you entered, he motioned for you to close the door and come to him, which you did.  
  
When you got close enough, he grabbed your hips in his monstrous hands and said he’d give you enough credits for a full meal if you did something for him, smirking at you. You’d felt sick to your stomach and stupidly asked what he wanted. Instead of answering, he flipped you around and pressed you into the table. “This is what I want,” he breathed across your neck, “ you bent over for me to use as I please”. He ripped your tunic off and you tried to scream, but he covered your mouth threatened to kill you if you made another sound. And that was that. He was at least twice your size, what else could you do? You went limp and allowed him to violate you, wishing desperately to be anywhere else.

When he was done, he didn’t even give you the credits. Instead, he grabbed your face in his hand and squeezed, you winced in pain and he spat at you, “You’re an ugly, filthy whore and that’s all you’ll ever be good for.”

You didn’t realize you started crying again until you heard the Mandalorian’s voice as he asked sharply,  
  
“What’s wrong?”

  
Hurriedly, you wiped at your eyes and said a very unconvincing,

  
“it’s nothing”.

  
He clearly didn’t believe you, because he turned in his seat you face you fully and, even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was not buying your answer. He crossed a leg over his lap and said,  
“I know you have nightmares,”

You sat up straighter and turned to face him as well.

  
“I-“

He hesitated, grasping his gloved hands together and twisting them,

  
“I hear you talking in your sleep and crying sometimes”.

You weren’t shocked by his confession, but you did feel embarrassed that he knew. When you didn’t speak, he continued,

  
“I considered asking you about it before, but I didn’t want to make you talk if you didn’t want to,”

He planted his hands on his knees and leaned toward you as he spoke. You felt frozen in your spot, and even though you could see his face, you could feel his earnestness. You didn’t know he cared that much.

  
When you’d helped him catch the bounty on the mining planet simply by holding the alien creature in place, he’d noticed your bruised face and ripped clothes and asked if you had somewhere to go that was safe. You shook your head no and he offered you a job assisting him with his hunts. You didn’t know why he took pity on you, but you accepted, anything to get away.

  
Now that you thought about it, though, he’d always been kind-if a little distant- in the weeks that followed. Just a few days ago, you’d cut your hand while trying to repair a broken shelf on the Crest, and he bandaged it for you without you even asking. He even unwrapped it the next day and reapplied the antibacterial spray, checking closely for any sign of infection. You’d thanked him at the time, and he just squeezed your shoulder and told you to be careful.

  
You were snapped out of your thoughts by his tone, you could tell he was trying to be less gruff,

  
“If you tell me what’s making you upset, I’ll try to help,”

He offered, sitting back in his chair normally. The gesture was so nice and so unexpected in that moment that it overwhelmed you and you burst into sobs. You felt ridiculous, but it had been so long since anyone showed you the slightest bit of concern, you couldn’t help it. You could feel the Mandalorian’s gaze burning into you. He waited until your sobs died down into embarrassing hiccups to say,

  
“Come here”.  
  
He said it so firmly that you startled a bit before rising slowly to your feet. You took the few short steps to his chair, standing in front of him with your arms crossed defensively across your chest, feeling like a child about to be scolded.  
  
He didn’t scold you, though, for crying, he reached out and gently pried your arms apart, taking both of your hands in his gloved ones before asking again softly,  
  
“Please tell me what’s wrong, I want to help”.

You stared with wet eyes at the visor of his helmet, wishing you could see his face. He didn’t say another word, just squeezed your hands in his, and you nodded, gripping his hands in yours tightly as you recounted your nightmare and told him it wasn’t just a dream, it was a memory for you.

  
The Mandalorian didn’t move or speak while you talked, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him as you finished your story. He’d released your hands midway through, so you crossed your arms again so he couldn’t see you shaking. A tense silence followed and neither of you spoke for several minutes.

  
“How many times did he do that to you”?

He asked, standing up suddenly and walking to the ladder that lead down to the main level of the ship.

  
“Four times,”

you whispered, not looking at him,

“The last time was the day before you came”.

He nodded and instructed you to stay in the cockpit as he climbed down the ladder. After a few minutes, you sat down in his seat, still warm from his presence just moments before.  
  
It felt like an eternity passed before something happened, the lights in the cockpit switched off suddenly, the only left were the buttons on the control panel in front of you. When you heard him ascending the ladder, you jumped quickly out of his seat. It was hard to make him out in the darkness, you could only see the faint glow of his helmet.

He stopped in front of you and you realized he’d removed his body armor so only his helmet remained. He was a lot slimmer without the beskar, but you could tell he was strong and muscled from the way he held himself.

“Look at me,”

he asked, tipping your chin up with his bare fingers, and you complied, looking at his helmeted face.

“Nothing like that will ever happen to you again as long as I’m alive,”

He promised, cupping your face in his hand. His hand was big, but it wasn’t the hand that had hurt you, it was more of a caress, a featherlight touch for a man who seemed so large most of the time 

Somehow, you had tears left to cry, and a few slipped out and rolled down your cheeks. The Mandalorian released your face and sat back down in his chair. He held out a hand and said again, with much less anger in his voice,

“Come here,”

You took his hand and let him move you to stand in front of him once more. His voice sounded sad when he spoke again,

“Can I hold you?”

You didn’t even have the strength to respond, suddenly feeling the exhaustion from the harrowing night you’d had seeping into your bones, you nodded and let him draw you into his lap. He wrapped his arms securely around you and whispered,

“Relax, I’ve got you”.

You tried to do as he said, resting your head on his shoulder and turning your body towards his, looping one of your arms around his middle to pull yourself closer to his warmth. He adjusted his grip on you so he could stroke your hair back away from your face and rub his thumb up and down your cheek, wiping away the last few stray tears that fell. Like his presence, his touch calmed you and you just let him hold you and pet your hair and rub circles into your back. He also spoke to you in hushed tones in a language you didn’t recognize, but it was nice nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,”

you said quietly, after you felt like a long time had passed. His hands stopped moving along your skin, so you continued,

“I never meant to put this burden on someone else, but I feel that I can trust you”.

“Don’t apologize,” he responded, rubbing the back of your neck,

“I wanted you to trust me, I want us to be-“ he trailed off, seeming unsure of himself. 

Your stomach did a little flip and you craned you neck up to look at his helmet. You smiled at him and said,

“I want that too,” you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his helmet, close to where you thought his cheek should be,

  
“We don’t have to label it, but I want what you want,” you assured him. He sighed and pressed his helmet to your forehead.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he said, tracing the shell of your ear with his hand.

“It’s okay,” you replied, shuffling back down to press your face into his neck, reveling in his warmth, and continued,

“I don’t know that much about Mandalorians but I know about the face thing.”

His sudden burst of laughter shook your body in his lap and you couldn’t help but laugh too.

“My whole creed, what I’ve been living my entire life for,” he said, sounding amused,  
  
“Boiled down ‘to the face thing’ ”. 

He laughed again and hugged you tightly. You didn’t respond, content to lay on him for as long as he’d let you.

Eventually, he suggested you both try to sleep as the ship would be in hyperspace for several more hours. Reluctantly, you climbed out of his lap and started down the ladder and he followed. 

When you went to turn toward your makeshift bunk near the food and cargo, the Mandalorian stopped you with both hands on your shoulders and steered you toward his sleeping quarters. You’d never been in this part of this ship before and you could hardly see it now, all cloaked in darkness. He guided you into the room and moved around you to use the fresher just outside. 

From what you could make out in the dark, his beskar was placed on a wall shelf, ready at a moments notice to suit back up. His bed was small, but it was an actual bed compared to the crates with cushions you’d been sleeping on.

He stepped back into the room and climbed into bed, motioning for you to join him. You stood at the edge of his bed, suddenly nervous.

“Come on,” he said softly, patting the blankets,

  
“I won’t bite”. His joke shook your nerves loose enough that you climbed in next to him and let him pull your back into his chest.

  
“Thank you,” you said quietly, entwining your fingers with his around your stomach.

  
“You don’t ever have to be scared of him again,” he promised, squeezing your hand in his. 

Silence settled comfortably over the two of you and you thought he’d fallen asleep when he spoke again,

“Can I ask you a question?” He hadn’t loosened his grip on you so you nodded and you felt his helmet moving with your head so he’d know to go ahead.

“Is your old boss still alive?” He asked, and you had to swallow hard before answering,

“Yeah I think so,” you voice wobbled a little as you clarified,

  
“He was definitely alive the day I left with you”. The Mandalorian grunted in response and when you sniffled, he soothed,

“Don’t cry sweetheart,” and stroked your cheek with his fingers before he said,

“I’ve got you, try to sleep”.

With his arms around you and his steady breathing to guide you, you were able to fall into a dark, dreamless sleep.


	2. Anything For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian and the reader hunt for a bounty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I have a thing for laps. Who's to say? Will probably write at least one more chapter, let me know if y'all want it!

When you woke up the next morning, the Mandalorian wasn’t next to you anymore, but that hardly surprised you. You were on a ship hurtling through space, after all. You sat up and stretched, feeling rested for the first time in months.  
Swinging your legs over the side of his bed, you got up and made your way across the ship to your belongings to get dressed. Part of you didn’t want to get out of the soft clothes the Mandalorian had held you in last night, but you knew there was a bounty on the next planet so you wanted to be ready.  
There was no sound coming from the cockpit and that made your stomach flutter; he was being quiet while you he thought you were sleeping. Not that he was loud most of the time, but you just knew the silence was deliberate. As you ascended the ladder, you heard the creak of his captain’s chair spinning around to watch you. You offered him a small smile once you straightened up and made your way to your seat from the night before. The Mandalorian turned back to the controls and several minutes of quiet passed before he spoke, “Did you sleep well?”

You smiled wider at him and replied, “Yeah, thanks to you.” He made a noise like he was clearing his throat and continued, “You can...” he paused, seemingly trying to collect himself before mumbling, “if you want to keep sleeping in my bed you can.” He sounded a little unsure of himself, so you got up to stand next to him before you spoke, “I’d like that.”

You heard him sigh and watched his shoulders relax. Figuring he’d probably appreciate a change of subject, you asked, “where are we going again?” It worked like a charm to dissolve the tension between you as he pointed out the planet on the nav system and explained he’d need your help with this bounty as it was a small alien creature, a lower level boss of some mob you’d never heard of, and would likely be surrounded by similarly small creatures trying to blend in. You nodded and returned to your seat, brushing a hand along his arm as you went. You could feel the Mandalorian’s eyes on you after the contact, but you pretended not to notice.

...

Once you’d stepped out onto the planet with the Mandalorian, it was clear to you this bounty would be harder than he’d described. Almost everyone you passed was smaller than you and much smaller than the Mandalorian; the two of you stuck out and you could tell it irritated him. He strode purposefully next you and you turned toward a small cantina when he wordlessly pointed in its direction. He sped up to get in front of you as you entered so you followed him to a booth and sat across from him.  
He didn’t speak for several seconds, and you were so focused on him that you jumped a little when a waitress asked what you wanted. Under the table, the Mandalorian tapped his boot against yours in a reassuring gesture and ordered broth for you and nothing for himself. You nodded when the waitress raised her eyebrows at you and she left.

The Mandalorian leaned forward on the table and spoke under his breath to you, “I have a new plan, we’ll need to split up.” You nodded again and he reached across the table and clipped an earpiece onto your right ear, tugging gently to make sure it fit. He looked around briefly to ensure no one was looking and motioned for your hand, which you gave to him readily. With a soft click, he tightened a comm link onto your wrist and turned it on, flipping to channel 3.

Keeping his voice low, he instructed you, “We need to draw our guy out and he won’t come near me. He’s been known to hide out near a produce stand on the edge of the market,” he paused as the waitress set a bowl down in front of you and you thanked her.  
“Eat,” he said, “we might be out here for awhile waiting for him.” You didn’t feel hungry, but you also couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten anything besides ration bars. So you acquiesced, tipping the bowl up to your lips and letting the warm liquid run down your throat and into your empty stomach. It filled you with warmth immediately and you were glad he’d suggested it.

When you sat the empty bowl down, the Mandalorian continued, sounding a little hoarse, “so here’s what I need from you,” and you listened intently, determined not to let him down after all the kindness he’d shown you. Once the plan was clear, the Mandalorian slid a blaster across the table to you and you quickly tucked it into a pocket on your tunic. “The safety’s off,” he warned, “so only get it out if you intend to use it.”

“Got it,” you said, and looked where you thought his eyes must be, trying to convey how much you wanted to be of use. His boot tapped yours under the table again and you sighed, a little surprised at how much the small gesture comforted your nerves. If the Mandalorian believed you could do it, you could do it.

“Okay,” he said, sitting up straight and turning his helmet to look around the little cantina again, “go to your position, do what we discussed. I’ll be watching but you shouldn’t be able to see me.” You nodded for what felt like the 500th time that conversation and got up from the booth to head to the market. Before you could get out of his reach, he hooked a gloved finger around your thumb so you’d turn around and hear him almost whisper, “Be careful,” before letting you go to carry out your end of the mission. You were glad you were walking away from him as your entire face and neck lit up with a blush you couldn’t control. He really did care.

...

The market was much larger than it looked from the outside, so it took awhile to find the stand the Mandalorian had described to you. You stopped at a few stalls and looked over wares as he instructed, you even bought a small bracelet with the credits he’d given you. “Such a plain design for such a lovely lady,” the merchant waggled his eyebrows at you when you handed him the credits. You wanted to scoff, but not wanting to break character you giggled and said, “oh I like the simple things, nothing too flashy.”

“Oh I see,” said the merchant, leaning much too close to you for comfort, “don’t want to distract from this beauty,” while tracing a finger along your jaw. You flinched back instinctively and the merchant just laughed, handing you the small beaded trinket. You left as quickly as you could with him shouting behind you, “come back and see what’s behind the booth!” Your ears burned and you nearly ran to the other side of the crowd to calm yourself.

The comm link crackled in your ear, “What just happened?” before you could answer he spoke again, “are you okay?” You rubbed your hands over your face and spoke shakily into the comm link, “I’m okay.” He must’ve left his on because you could hear his heavy footsteps in your earpiece. You tapped yours to speak, “I’ll be fine, almost in position.” He grunted his affirmative in your earpiece and you walked quickly towards the stand he’d described.

Almost immediately, you’d spotted the bounty. Nearly laughing at how outlandish it was to see a mob boss just sitting at a market stall surrounded by other sellers. Per the plan you’d discussed, you walked over and perused the produce until you found something you could use, a beautifully ripe peach.  
“How much?” You asked as you picked up the fruit, weighing it in your hand. The bounty started to answer but then looked up sharply and saw you staring and he licked his lips. The bounty was small as Mando had said, maybe a foot shorter than you with glistening purple skin. His gaze made you want to shudder but you played the part, pretended to be into whatever he was.

“Free for you on one condition,” the bounty replied, eyes traveling up and down your form. “And that is?” You asked, hoping he’d take the bait. “Let me watch you eat it,” he said, eyebrows raised.

You felt victorious and disgusted at the same time, so you motioned to a nearby tree and told him you’d prefer to eat out of the sun. The bounty agreed and said he’d meet you there. Once you got to the tree you spoke into your comm slowly so no one would hear, “He took the bait, I’m under the tree like we discussed.” Your earpiece crackled with the Mandalorian’s deep voice, “Good work, don’t talk to me again unless you get into trouble, I’m getting into position.”  
The bounty waved at you as he approached and you smiled back, but he didn’t stop in front of you. He immediately backed you into a tree and pressed himself against you. To your own surprise, you didn’t tense and stayed calm.

You could hear the Mandalorian breathing hard in your ear and wondered if the comm picked up your conversation as the bounty said, “I decided I’d like to do some tasting of my own”, the bounty licked his long pink tongue up the side of your neck and you tried to push him back, but he held you there with a surprising strength.  
He tried to kiss you but you moved your head and he growled, “Don’t tease me if you don’t want to get what’s coming to you,” and before you could move he brought out a knife and ran the edge of it across your jawline. You froze in place, unable to even fumble for your blaster with the way he was holding your arms. When he tried again and you squirmed, he quickly slashed the knife across your cheek, making a shallow cut but it stung. You couldn’t help the whimper of pain that escaped your lips.  
Before the bounty could even open his mouth to threaten you again, his knife holding arm was yanked backwards and he was slammed to the ground by the Mandalorian.  
When the bounty saw who had yanked him back he tried to wiggle out of the Mandalorian’s gloved grasp to no avail and with a sickening crack, his wrist was snapped.  
At the sound, you shook yourself out of your terror and grabbed your blaster, aiming it at the bounty’s head.

After a tense moment, the bounty relented and allowed the Mandalorian to cuff him and start walking toward the Crest. You tucked your blaster away safely and caught up with them, falling into step with the Mandalorian. He had a blaster in the bounty’s back and said to you gruffly, “Good work, he was easier than I thought.”  
Before you could even respond the bounty piped up, “Didn’t know Mandalorians could have fuck toys like her but I guess I’m wrong.” The Mandalorian slammed the butt of his blaster into the back of the bounty’s head, knocking him out. Once he’d thrown the bounty over his shoulder, you continued with him towards the ship, holding a hand to your bleeding face. You felt his hand on your back, leading you up the ramp to the crest, where you went to find the med kit while he froze the bounty for transport.  
Shortly, you felt the crest rising under you and held onto the counter in his small kitchen/storage area as the ship blaster into hyperspace. The Mandalorian found you still there when he descended from the cockpit, picking out supplies one-handed while the other held a cloth to your cut.

“Let me,” he said, sharper than he meant, and took the kit from your hand. “I could probably do it,” you said to him, smiling sheepishly, “but it’s really hard one-handed.” He grunted and moved the kit to one side before he gave you a brief warning, “I’m going to put you on the counter.” Then he was lifting you up by the hips and sitting your ass on the counter so he could get an easier look at your wound. You were surprised he could pick up a grown woman so easily, but he showed no signs of effort as he did it.

Shit he’s strong, you thought to yourself as you moved the cloth so the Mandalorian could start patching you up. He held up a small wipe in a packet and said, “This might sting but it’ll stop the bleeding,” before wiping it quickly but gently over your cut. You jumped a little at the burn but it was over quickly enough. He leaned his helmet close to you, mere inches from your face as he examined the wound. “Don’t think it needs stitches,” he said and you let out a whoosh of breath you’d been holding in. The helmet pulled back to look at you straight on and was it just you or did he seem...amused?

His voice was much gentler when he told you, “If you needed stitches I could do them.” You tried to smile but winced at the pain of moving your face. The Mandalorian quickly went to work, spraying your face with antibacterial spray and applying a big soft bandage that laid flat against your skin. “How does that feel?” he asked and you made what you assumed were very silly faces while you tested the feel of the bandage. Satisfied, you responded, “still hurts but it’s better”. One of the Mandalorian’s ungloved hands brushed across your wound and he said softly, “I never meant for you to get hurt.” You grasped his hand and held it to your face, not wanting to break contact, “It’s just a scratch, I’m okay.” In response, the Mandalorian slowly brought his other hand up so he was cradling your face and leaned his helmeted forehead avians yours. You leaned into his touch and he lingered for a few breaths, seeming to calm himself in your presence.

When he pulled back, still holding your face in his hands, he spoke again, voice rougher and gravelly, “I wanted to kill him the moment he touched you.” Inexplicably, you felt tears pricking your eyes at the conviction in his voice and couldn’t respond. He rubbed his thumb along your uninjured cheek and said, “You should rest a bit, we’ll be at the delivery point soon.” Without another word, he lifted you up off the counter and set you back down on your feet. He turned to walk back to the cockpit just as you spoke timidly, “I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

He didn’t turn back to you, but he did jerk his head to indicate you could follow him. To your surprise, he didn’t go back up to pilot, instead he stopped at his armory and laid out some of the weapons he’d had on him and asked for you to give your blaster back, which you did readily. He got to work wiping the dust and sand from each piece and you made yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting cross legged on a metal crate to watch him work.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, you actually found yourself enjoying the view of his skillful hands as he cleaned and stowed each weapon. You wanted his hands back on you, but you didn’t want to push. Your heart ached with how soft he’d seemed when he held your face earlier.  
“Hey,” you said, attempting to get his attention and he made a noise to indicate he’d heard you. “What do I call you?” you asked, hands under your chin in thought. Up to this point, you’d never needed to address him but you could imagine it would come in handy. The Mandalorian didn’t reply for a minute, then grunted out, “Most people call me Mando”.

“But that’s not your name, is it?” You questioned, genuinely curious now. He shook his head and added, “Not many know my name.” At that revelation, you wondered aloud,  
“Is this like the helmet thing?” The Mandalorian huffed an amused breath out through the voice modulator, “Yes, exactly like that.” Satisfied, you moved to rest your head in your hand, momentarily forgetting your cut. Before you could stop yourself, you let out an audible hiss at the pain. The Mandalorian’s helmet whipped around to face you and you assured him, “I’m okay, it just stings when I touch it.” He stared at you for several long moments before he spoke, “Go sit up in the cockpit I’ll come up in a minute,” You started to protest but he interrupted you, “Its more comfortable than crates.” After another staring contest, you got up and did what he said.

You forced yourself to relax and take a few deep breaths in your (admittedly easier to sit on) chair while you waited for Mando. You still didn’t feel like sleeping but you were tired from the day. You hoped that Mando could see you were an asset to him and not just a burden he had to take care of. You allowed your eyes to slip close and kept them that way when you heard the Mandalorian’s heavy footsteps near you. His armor clanked when he sat down in his chair and you were content to doze in your seat until he spoke, “I need to talk to you about something.”

Immediately, you opened your eyes and looked over at him. He motioned for you to come over to him so you did, choosing to lean against the side of his chair rather than support your own weight. He seemed...nervous. You placed a hand gently on his shoulder and the helmet looked up at you. He took a breath and started, “When we get to the delivery point, I don’t think you should get off the ship with me.”  
“Okay,” you said, waiting for him to keep going. After a long pause he took your hand off his shoulder and held it tightly in his. A rush of warmth filled you at the contact and you turned up your lips at him, hoping to encourage him to speak. He cleared his throat and spoke again, “The delivery point is the planet where I found you.” It took a moment for the words to sink in and when it did you couldn’t control the tremor that ran through your body. Mando noticed but just kept holding your hand, waiting for you to speak this time.

“I...” you stammered, trying to form a sentence, “I don’t...”, you took a shaky breath, “what’s going to happen when we get there?” You couldn’t decide if you were angry or sad or just really confused. Why would he take you back there?

“Listen to me,” he pleaded and you looked him right in the helmet as he spoke, “I took this job on purpose. I want to go back there.” You didn’t move a muscle and he squeezed your hand in his, “I want you to stay here, you’ll be safe I promise.” Still unable to move, you whispered, “What are you going to do?”  
The Mandalorian released your hand and rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to be comforting, “I’m going to get that bastard that hurt you. So he can’t hurt anyone else ever again.”

“What are you going to do?” you repeated, still not moving.

“I’m going to kill him,” Mando said, nearly growling. “No carbonite?” You asked, barely able to speak, so overwhelmed with all the thoughts swirling in your head. The Mandalorian gripped your chin in his hand and it snapped you back to reality. “No, this isn’t a bounty,” he said, voice so stern it almost scared you, “it’s personal.”  
Lips trembling, you asked, “I won’t have to see him?”

“No.”

“He won’t be able to get to me?”

“No.”

“What if he hurts you?” Your heart clenched at the thought.

“Not a chance,” he assured you, still holding your face close to his helmet. You swallowed hard, “You don’t have to do this for me,” you said, feeling like such a baby for crying to him for the second day in a row.

“I’d do anything for you.”

He said it with such conviction, you couldn’t doubt him. A sob escaped your lips before you could stop it and the Mandalorian stood up to pull you into his beskar-clad chest. He let you cry for a few minutes before he asked, voice much softer, “Is that okay with you?” Sniffling, you nodded your head against him and he ran a hand over your hair. Still barely able to speak, you asked, “How much longer til we’re there?”

“A couple of hours before we drop out of hyperspace,” came his short reply. He made no move to release you and you weren’t eager to move, to appear so weak as you felt. Your hands were shaking badly as you gripped the material between his chest and back plates. He let you stay there for awhile before he asked, “Can I pick you up again?” You agreed and he scooped you up, holding you close as he sat back down in his pilot’s seat. You shifted to wrap your arms around his neck and he rubbed your back soothingly. It felt like it took forever, but you were able to finally stop shaking and went limp in his lap.

“Mando?” You spoke quietly, not wanting to bother him if he was as tired as you. He hummed in reply and you continued, “Thank you.” He exhaled through the modulator and said, “Baby you don’t need to thank me. I’ve got you.” Strong arms wrapped around you and hugged you close to him and you took a deep breath against him, inhaling his scent, wishing you could fill your lungs with him. The Mandalorian slumped down a little in his chair and let his helmet rest against your head and you smiled to yourself, you could get used to this.


	3. Finally Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay it’s finally done the last chapter!!! Thanks for being patient with me and still leaving me nice comments. I won’t like I am DEPRESSED right now and can barely get through the day but I was feeling better this weekend so I was able to finally get this one wrapped up. Hope y’all enjoy!!

It had been 3 hours since the Mandalorian left you alone on the Razor Crest, sitting on the outskirts of the mining camp you’d once called home. There wasn’t much visibility in the blinding sunlight of the desert planet, you could barely make out the living quarters for the workers if you squinted. You were antsy, unable to sit still as you waited for your Mandalorian to return to you safely. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or believe his promise to return, you just knew what the people who ran the camps were capable of. A shudder ran down your spine and you decided to clean up the ship to busy yourself, anything to take your mind off what could be happening outside. 

…

The Mandalorian was somewhat relieved the transaction with his latest bounty was so smooth. He’d been on this planet before, when he found you, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience to say the least. As he deposited his credits into a compartment on his side, his mind drifted to you and he was tempted to abandon this revenge mission he’d concocted and just take you somewhere far away for awhile. 

But then the sharp memory of your tear-stained face when you’d told him what you endured on this planet filled him with rage anew. He had been taught a lot of things in his time with the covert, and one of the Mandalorians guiding principles was respect. Of course he wasn’t naive, he knew there were bad people all over the galaxy who would take what they wanted regardless of right or wrong. Hell, that’s why he had a job in the first place. But most of his quarries owed money to someone or skipped out on work contracts. He’d had some more memorable encounters with hardened criminals and them he’d had to bring in cold—too dangerous and sneaky to trust even in cuffs. 

The thought of someone in power, a boss, treating the people that worked for them in such a base manner was almost incomprehensible to him. As he made his way around the outer edges of the mine, he observed mostly male workers carrying heavy loads of minerals to vehicles for transport. That wasn’t your job, so he ducked into the worker’s quarters when someone exited in too much of a rush to ensure the door closed behind them. 

The Mandalorian knew he would stick out like a sore thumb, but he was good at silencing his footsteps as he moved slowly down the corridor. Unfortunately, his dash across the camp had not gone unnoticed. Two large men who acted as guards for your old boss spotted the Mandalorian and decided to go looking for his ship. 

…

_ Thud. Thud. Thud.  _

The rhythmic noise outside the crest had your heart hammering in your chest. You looked outside through the small window on the door and saw two men you recognized as your boss’ bodyguards. They were banging around the edges of the ship, probably looking for a weak spot. Panicking, you grabbed a blaster from the armory and hid behind the carbonite freezer as best you could, tucking your knees up under you to avoid being seen. 

The banging grew louder and you suddenly heard the mechanical whirring of the hatch lifting and the ramp lowering. Two sets of boots thumped up the ramp and you held your breath, praying they wouldn’t look your way. 

You heard one of the men whistle as they looked over the Mandalorian’s impressive array of weapons. 

“We should take one of these,” one of the men said, holding up a blaster with a prong on one end. The other snorted and kept looking around, only stopping directly in front of your hiding spot. You held your breath, but the man knelt down and peered around to find you, blaster pointed in his face. He jerked his head back before you could fire and shouted, 

“Looks like the Mandalorian has a plaything!” 

Two huge hands reached in and yanked you out, but you found the trigger and blindly fired, hitting one of the men in the arm. The man who’d been hit released you to clutch his wound but his companion was quick, grabbing the weapon from you and dangling it over your head, out of reach. 

Frozen in fear, you just stared at him and watched as recognition filled his features. 

“Hey, I know you,” he said, pointing at your with his dirty fingers. “The boss was pissed when you disappeared on him.” 

Rage filled you and you spit at him before saying, “Fuck you and fuck him. I ran away.” 

The one towering over you laughed and said, 

“I have to hand it to you, running straight into a Mandalorian’s bed was a smart move.” 

The one you’d shot was still groaning on the floor and his companion barked at him, 

“Get up and shut up!” 

While he was distracted, you lunged for another weapon but he stopped you, laughing again. He hauled you close to him by one arm and winked at you, 

“Can’t let you do that.” You struggled against his grip but he was much stronger than you. He tossed your blaster to the man you’d shot and instructed him, 

“Keep this pointed at her but don’t use it or the boss’ll have your head.” 

Looking down at you, he said almost sweetly, 

“You know, I never would’ve pegged you for such a whore but I guess I underestimated you.” You kicked him hard in the shins but he didn’t even flinch. 

“It’s cute how you think you can get away from me, no wonder the boss liked you wriggling under him.” He yanked you harshly, leading you out of the ship and into the blazing sun. As soon as you could catch your breath you screamed as loud as you could. The blaster was immediately pressed into your back, but the one gripping you pushed it off. 

“Let her screech,” he said, releasing your arm momentarily to grab you by your hair instead, “it’s not like the Mandalorian actually cares about her. They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

He angled your head up to look up and him and he grabbed your face hard enough to bruise and tears filled your eyes at the pain. 

“No one’s coming for you, make all the noise you want.” 

…

It was very quiet once the Mandalorian had reached what he assumed were the “offices” of the mining camp. The building was dirty and he was thankful for the filters in his helmet as he knew the area stunk. He passed someone asleep on the floor and peered into a room he knew instantly to be your bosses’. The big table was in the middle just as you’d described and he could see scratch marks on the surface. He couldn’t know for sure, but he had a sinking feeling that you had put them there and his entire being was filled with anger on your behalf. 

He searched the room thoroughly, but found it empty. Suddenly, he heard laughter and someone pleading, he hoped to the Maker it wasn’t what it sounded like. He exited the building threw a window and crept around the side to see his fear confirmed, two men were dragging you across the camp toward a small tent. You were saying something, begging the men to stop and thrashing in their grip. The Mandalorian tamped down his instinct to open fire and kill the men to get to you. Hoping his self control would be rewarded with the revenge he sought. 

His heart felt like it cracked into pieces when, as he was following at a distance, staying in the shadows, you called out for him, 

“Mando!” you yelled, trying not to cry, “Mando!” Your lungs felt like they were on fire but you didn’t stop yelling. The man dragging you stopped suddenly and slapped you across the face, Mando was close enough to hear him snarl, 

“You’re gonna pay for this later, but by all means keep it up. That Mandalorian got paid hours ago and left.” 

It took every ounce of self restraint he possessed to not just shoot them on the spot and whisk you away to safety, but he had his sights set on a bigger prize and they were leading him right to it. 

Still following as close as he dared, he watched as the men drug you inside a small shack right on the edge of the camp, nearly directly across from where Mando had landed the razor crest hours before. Moving silently, he crept up to the side of the building, straining to hear what was going on inside. 

A gruff voice shouted your name and all the hairs on the Mandalorian’s arms stood up when he heard it. That  _ had _ to be him, your boss, your abuser, the one who’d caused you so much pain and turmoil. He stayed silent, listening to the man say how much he’d missed you and what a bad girl you’d been to run away like that. The man kept talking and fear gripped Mando for a second when he realized he hadn’t hurt your voice in several minutes. Almost as soon as he thought it, there was a shuffling sound like you were being dragged to your feet and you sobbed out,

“No! Don’t f-fucking touch me. No, please!” 

Your last word was cut off by a sharp cry of pain and the Mandalorian had officially run out of patience. In one swift move, he kicked the door down with his heavy boot and burst into the small space, blaster drawn. 

It was like time stood still the minute you saw him. You felt so much relief you thought you might pass out from it, but the hand clutching your hair kept you upright. No one moved for a second, then both of the goons who’d taken you attempted to attack your Mandalorian at the same time, but it was over before it really started and both their bodies were on the floor in minutes. 

You could hear Mando’s ragged breaths through the modulator in the silence. The man clutching you sprung into action, kicking your legs out from under you so you fell to your knees. His grip on your head tightened painfully and he bared your throat to the Mandalorian, suddenly holding a long vibroblade against your skin. In the back of your mind, you knew you should be scared. But you kept your focus on the Mandalorian and you found that you weren’t really afraid with him in front of you. 

“Release her,” Mando demanded, voice deep and rough through his helmet. He was seething, angry and ready to strike. You could feel your former boss chuckle from behind you. 

“What do you want with her anyway? She’s a bad girl, Mandalorian, she’s a filthy little whore, but she must have missed me,” he said , still laughing cruelly, “look how she trembles for me.” 

Slowly, the tip of the knife ran across your face, not hard enough to cut but the threat was still there. You stayed as still as you could, breath coming in short pants as you tried not to panic. 

”I’m only going to ask nicely one more time,” the Mandalorian warned, taking a step closer, “let her go or suffer the consequences.” 

Your former boss roared with laughter and opened his mouth to speak again but it was too little too late. Faster than you could really comprehend, Mando shot him in the arm holding the knife. When your boss screeched and released the weapon and, consequently you with it, you were thinking quick enough to grab the blade and crawl away to the side of the tent, holding it out in front of you for protection. 

The Mandalorian approached the man on the floor and kicked him, hard, in the ribs. You heard something crack and he cried out in agony. Mando went to draw a weapon from his belt before pausing and whipping around to look at you, still holding the blade with shaking hands. He was still tense and angry as he approached you but his touch was gentle when he knelt down next to your and closed a gloved hand over your wrist. 

“Still with me?” he asked and you nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak. You allowed him to ease the blade out of your grip and he squeezed your arm before he said, 

“I’ll get you out of here, okay?” He waited until you nodded again before he released you and went back to the task at hand, putting his body between you and his target. 

“You are scum,” the Mandalorian spat out and you could hear the sound of the blade slicing flesh and another scream from the man who’d made your life a living hell. He begged and pleaded for mercy and you covered your ears when you heard the blaster fire. You saw the Mandalorian bend down close to your former boss, tilting his helmet like he was examining him. 

“Did you give mercy?” Mando asked, slashing at the man again, earning another scream. “Did you hear the pleas of those you hurt?” He growled, tossing the blade to the floor with a metallic clank. 

The man on the floor continued to plead and you heard the Mandalorian chuckle mirthlessly. 

“The galaxy will be better off without worthless men like you who prey on innocents,” and with that, another blaster fire and silence. 

You still had your eyes closed and your hands over your ears, so you flinched violently when Mando grasped your arms to pull you up. 

“Easy,” he said, hands running over you to check for any injuries, “it’s just me.” Slowly, you let your hands lower from the sides of your head and looked up at his helmet. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders once more and asked, 

“Can you walk?” 

You nodded and he started out of the building, motioning for you to follow. The two of you made your way around the outskirts of the camp and back to the ship with no interruptions.

By the time you were back safely inside the razor crest, you could feel every bruise you’d received that day, the soreness creeping in now that you could breathe deeply. You watched as the Mandalorian ascended the ladder quickly, likely wanting to get you as far away as possible. The sudden jump to hyperspace nearly knocked you off balance but you managed to catch yourself on a crate and sat down hard with the force of the jump. 

After you caught your breath, the events of the day started to bear down on you. Every part of your body ached. You looked down and noticed your legs and ankles were scratched up from being dragged around and as your gaze flickered up, you noticed purple bruises on both hands, finger shaped marks littered your forearms and, even though you couldn’t see it, the back of your right arm almost hurt too much to move after being pulled by it for so long. Your head was pounding, so you curled up on the crate and tried to be still, hoping that would ease the throbbing in your temples. You tucked your shaking hands under your arms as the adrenaline from your survival instinct started to fade into shock and horror at what had almost happened to you. 

That’s how Mando found you, laying sideways on a crate and visibly shaking. He felt  _ so  _ guilty for what had happened to you and the feeling was consuming him so much he almost didn’t want to come back down from the cockpit. But he knew he owed you his attention at the least and an apology if he could get the words right. He knelt down close to your face and moved your hair out of your eyes so he could see you. Your expression was blank, but your eyes followed his movement so he knew you were watching him. In the light of the crest, he could see how bruised and battered you were from the ordeal and he didn’t know where to start. Should he talk first? Patch you up? He wished he could just scoop your up and take you to bed but he knew he shouldn’t, not yet at least. 

Mando had been absentmindedly stroking your hair as he considered his options, and when he moved his hand to get up and get some supplies to tend to you, you let out a pitiful sound, a cross between a whimper and a whine. Immediately, he put his hand back on your head and promised, 

“I’m not going anywhere, just need to get the kit to help you okay?”

He waited until your eyes met his t-shaped visor before stepping away to grab what he needed. When he returned, he helped you to a sitting position and knelt down in front of you with the kit on his lap. He’d found a numbing cream that would hopefully help with the pain he knew you were in from the rough treatment. Without his gloves, he rubbed the cream onto each bruise with a gentleness that made your throat constrict and your eyes water. Mando must’ve thought you were nearly crying from the pain alone because he was murmuring, 

“Sorry, I’m almost done.” You tensed when he sprayed the anti bacterial spray over the many cuts on your legs and he shushed you, “I know it stings, shh, it’s okay.” He disappeared again and brought back a cold cloth that he used to wipe down your face and hairline, cleaning up the dirt and bits of matted blood. When he as done, his helmet tilted up to look at you and he asked, 

“Did I miss any?” 

Nodding, you started to peel off your shirt but the Mandalorian stopped you with his hand, 

“Umm, do you,” he stammered, “do you need privacy?” You shook your head and pulled down on your undershirt to show him you weren’t stripping completely and he seemed to relax a bit. He even helped you pull the shirt off completely when you winced are the movement of your right arm. You turned sideways so he could get a better look then told him, 

“It hurts a lot right here,” you pointed to your shoulder blade and upper back of your arm, “does it look bad?” Mando sucked in a breath and gingerly touched the area you’d pointed to, it was swollen and the darkest bruise on your body that he’d seen. He could make out where the brute’s hand had gripped and pulled and he felt his anger surge up again. 

“Think this one might need a cold pack,” he told you, careful not to press his fingers too hard while he checked for anything broken in the area. Thankfully, he found none and when he rose from his crouched position to grab what you needed, he noticed silent tears streaming down your face. He reached out and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shook yourself and muttered, 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” while wiping hurriedly at your face. 

The Mandalorian sighed and patted your shoulder as gently as he could before turning to grab the cold pack from his kit.

When he reappeared, you weren’t crying anymore, just staring at your feet. Mando pulled up another crate and sat down behind you before he pressed the cold pack firmly into your shoulder, causing you to shiver at the sudden change in temperature. Right away, you felt the Mandalorian’s hand on your uninjured shoulder, rubbing back and forth like he was trying to warm you up, distract you from the cold. His voice was low in the modulator when he said again, 

“I’m sorry.” 

You turned your head as much as you could to look back at him and asked, 

“Sorry? For what? You saved my life, Mando. For at least the second time,” you tried to turn and look at him more fully but his hands kept you in place. 

There was a pause before you felt the cool press of the beskar helmet between your shoulder blades, leaning some of his weight on you. 

“I promised you that you’d be safe,” he explained and you swore you could almost feel his breath against your skin from how close he was to you, “I promised you wouldn’t have to see him and that he wouldn’t get to you and I failed you.” He took a shaky breath and neither of you moved for several minutes. 

You were grateful for the silence because your brain was spinning a million miles a minute at the words you’d just heard. He thought he’d  _ failed you _ ? Without him, you’d be right back where you were. As much as you wanted to just have him hold you and sleep off the hellish day you’d had, you felt like you needed to do something first. 

Slowly, you slid the cold pack out of his grasp and tossed it in the direction of the med kit. The Mandalorian dropped his hand from your bruised shoulder to your waist and you turned yourself around to face him. He lifted his helmet up to meet your gaze and you offered him a small smile when you said, 

“I wish I could explain to you how I felt when you knocked down the door today.” The helmet tilted and you continued, 

“As soon as I saw you I knew you’d keep me safe but.” He let one of his hands come up to cup your cheek and you leaned into his touch. 

“I just,” your voice wavered and Mando brought his other hand up so he was cradling your face in his palms. “I was so angry and then I saw him and I was,” you sniffed and he leaned his helmet down to rest against your forehead as you started to cry in earnest, hiccuping through your words, 

“I k- knew you’d come but for a m-minute I was so scared.” 

Mando didn’t say anything for a long moment, just shifted to pull your head against his shoulder. He kept one hand on your head and wrapped the other lightly around your back, careful of your bruises. He waited, strong and silent, and let you cry against him until your sobs had died down enough for you to be able to hear him speak. 

“I’m so sorry, cyare, I never meant for this to happen,” his hand stroked your hair softly as he spoke, “you should’ve been safe.” You sighed and rubbed your face against the soft fabric that covered his neck. “I think my desire to avenge you got in the way and I should have been more careful.” 

You pulled back then, as reluctant as you were to move away from him even an inch. With your hands firmly on his armored shoulders, you looked where you thought his eyes were and told him, 

“I’m not upset with you.” His helmet tilted again like he was confused and you felt him relax a little under your hands. “It’s not your fault people came looking for me, those guys knew who I was. And I even shot one to try to get away.” Mando’s helmet bobbed like he was surprised and you chuckled, 

“I never doubted that you would come for me,” you explained, “but it was hard not to panic being there again.” The Mandalorian seemed to consider what you’d said and brought his hands up to rest on your hips to hold you in place, as if you’d move away. 

“Thank you,” you added quietly after more silence, “for coming to get me and for killing him.” Mando pushed his helmet against your head again and you started to wonder if this was his version of a kiss, the most he could do through the helmet, as he’d been doing it a lot since he confessed he wanted to kiss you for real. 

“I’m glad he’s dead,” you told him, leaning more of your weight on him as the exhaustion from the day deeper into you. 

“If anyone ever even thinks about harming you again,” he told you, voice gravelly and low like you’d come to expect, “I will make them pay, you can count on that.” 

You nodded while you tried and failed to stifle a yawn. You were crashing, fast, and Mando noticed too. He rose from his seat and led you toward his quarters, encouraging you to lie down on the small bed. He had started to leave the space to get himself cleaned up when your voice piped up, small and uncertain, 

“Don’t leave,” you pleaded, feeling like you might cry again. You felt the Mandalorian’s hand cover your own on the bed and he said, 

“I just have to take care of a few things then I’ll be right back, okay?” He waited until you agreed before getting up again and exiting. You head the shower start up and felt stupid for not realizing he might need to clean himself up after the long day he’d had. Despite your best efforts to stay awake, you felt your eyes grow heavy and you had just enough strength to beg your mind silently to let you rest, just for a little while.

…

You’re not sure if it’s been minutes or hours when you wake up in a blind panic, sitting straight up in bed and nearly falling out with your frantic movements. Mando’s hand grabbing hold of your arm is the only reason you don’t fall, but your entire body locks up at the contact. The room is pitch black and the only thing you can hear is your ragged breath. 

When he feels you freeze, the Mandalorian waits. Waits to see if you recognize his grip, if you remember where you are. He softly says your name when you haven’t moved for a minute and he feels you relax enough that he can haul you back from the edge of the bed without worrying he’s scaring you. You stay sitting up, even when he tries to pull you down. He turns his body sideways and leaves his hand on your thigh while he listens to you try to calm down. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, gruffer than he means to be but he swears he’s trying. He can feel the way you’re trembling and he pulls his gloves off so he can feel if you’re running a fever. He presses his hand to your leg, your arm, your neck, your cheeks, and finds you feel normal if not a little cold. Definitely not sick. He returns his hand to its original spot on your thigh and squeezes you a little and that’s when you finally speak up, 

“Mando?” you ask, voice wobbly and unsure. He rubs your leg and answers, 

“Yes?” You take a minute to process that he’s there which means you’re not on the mining planet anymore. 

“Where are we?” 

“Razor Crest.” 

“Where are we going?” 

“Nevarro but it’ll take us several more hours to get there.” 

“I,” you start, swallowing hard, “I guess I had a dream that I was back, you know,  _ there _ but you weren’t there…” you broke off, trying to stifle the rush of tears that has come up suddenly. 

“Lay back down.” The Mandalorian said firmly, but not unkindly. You comply, turning to face him in the dark so you’re not putting pressure on your bruised shoulder. When you feel his hand stroke up and down your side you startle a bit and he shushes you. 

“It’s just me,” he promises, continuing to stroke your side with his bare hand. You inhale shakily, trying to calm down, but a sob bursts out instead. Slowly, like he’s handling something delicate, he pulls you in closer and your brain suddenly jumps back online. You’re with him, you’re  _ safe _ , truly safe for the first time in your life. Without a second thought, you wiggle your arm free and slide it around his back, tucking yourself into his embrace and holding onto him with shaking hands. He holds you back just as tightly and for a long moment you just breathe together in the dark. 

“Mando?” you sniffle, pulling back enough to press your forehead against his helmet. You wonder if he can see you or if he’s just as in the dark as you are. 

“I’m here, cyare.” His hand rubs your back and it’s so comforting, he’s so kind and caring in this moment that the words burst out of you before you can stop them. 

“I think I love you.” 

Mando doesn’t speak for a long moment, but his hand doesn’t cease its repetitive soothing motion. In fact, you get goosebumps when his bare hand sneaks under your shirt and rubs at your skin instead. You can feel all the rough calluses on his fingers from years of handling weapons and hand to hand combat. When he does speak it’s just to say, 

“You think?” in a teasing tone and you can’t help but laugh and tighten your arms around him. He shakes his helmet against your head and thinks he could hear your laugh for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. 

“Can you see anything?” he asks, moving his hand up to hold your face gently. You shake your head against his hand and say, 

“I can’t, it’s pitch black. Why?” He doesn’t answer you but he removes his hand from you and you hear a hiss and a metallic clink before you hear his voice, his _real_ voice, 

“I love you too, sweet girl.” 

Then he’s kissing you and your hands come up to hold onto his face and one hand buries into his hair and when he moans into your mouth you take the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes against yours and while it’s certainly heated, a sense of calm settles over you. You think Mando must feel it too because he slows the place of your frantic kiss until it’s syrupy slow and tender. 

Eventually, you have to part for air but Mando doesn’t stop, he keeps pressing kisses to your cheeks and your nose and your jaw and your forehead. He presses one last kiss to the shell of your ear before he stops, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in deep. You can feel the scratch of his facial hair and you’re breathless from his affection, carding your fingers through his hair when he shifts, turns to lay half on top of you. He’s heavy but you feel protected, under him like this, like he’s shielding you in his embrace. 

“I have something else to tell you,” he mutters into the slope of your neck and shoulder where he seems content to stay. You hum in response and he continued, 

“My name is Din.” 

Your hand ceases its movement in his hair and you ask, 

“What?” He huffs out a breath against your skin and explains, 

“You can’t use it if other people are around, but I want my lover to call me by my name when she can.” 

“Okay,” you agree, sure he can hear your smile when you speak, “let me start over then.” You resume running your fingers through his sinfully soft curls and tell him, 

“I think I love you, Din.” 

This time he laughs before he presses his lips to your neck, making you arch your back and sigh as he sucks and nips at your skin before he says, 

“I know I love you, baby.” 

You spend the rest of the night like this, entangled on his small cot, as close as you can possibly be. Neither of you sleep much but you think his sweet kisses and whispered words in your ear are well worth a little sleep deprivation. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> P.S. Guys, it’s tagged as r*pe and implied sexual assault because that’s what’s in here. I’ve had to delete some hateful comments already. Please remember this is just a free fan fiction and not a class on trauma response. Don’t take it too seriously!


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